Where Weariness Might Take Its Rest
by DianeB
Summary: Naomi, Seven. Being the Captain's Bridge Assistant can mean a lot of things. Naomi is able to offer comfort to the person she least expected to. Set after the episode "Drone."


Author's Note: (11/00) Though the episode "Drone" aired before we learned very much about the older Naomi Wildman, I have assumed for the sake of this story that Naomi's fascination with Seven-of-Nine was firmly established before we actually saw it three episodes later in "Once Upon A Time." Written in April, 2000. Rated PG.

Disclaimer: Paramount, er, CBS owns it all. Probably always will. I accept this.

Where Weariness Might Take Its Rest  
by DianeB

Seven staggered into the biobed, not seeing, not caring there might be a bruise from the impact. For the first time since she could remember, she was aware of every fiber of her human body – a body that now felt hollow, empty, void of even the vital organs that helped to keep her alive. But she knew, from the way she could not catch her breath and the way her heart was pounding, she was _not_ void of the human emotions that had kicked in violently the moment One refused to allow the Doctor to save him. She left Sickbay in a haze of confusion, not sure where she was going, only sure she needed desperately to be gone from the place that was causing her such pain.

Her humanity refused to allow her respite. In the corridor, she could think of nowhere else to go except that place she called home. Thankfully, she encountered no one on her way to the turbolift, and no one joined her in the lift on her way to cargo bay two.

Entering the dimly-lit bay, she went directly to the gamma regeneration alcove, carefully stepping upon it and keying it off. The wheezing sound it made as it shut down provided an auditory finality to the act, and she quickly stepped off the platform, startled by the potency of her reaction to the sound and the look of the now-blackened alcove.

She found herself drawn to the reflective panel that had so intrigued her, how long ago had that been? She remembered practicing her smile before it until her mouth hurt from the effort, still no closer to the concept than she had been when she began. Now the panel merely reflected the ache inside her and there was no hope of a smile. She stared at her reflection until a burning sensation in her human eye caused her to blink and take a step back. The blink squeezed a teardrop from her eye, and it ran in silent mourning down her cheek. She continued to walk in reverse, away from her image in the panel, away from the darkened alcove, away from the teardrop.

But she could not back far enough away. The single crystal tear was chased by another, and another, until she knew she was doing what she had sworn to herself she would never do. She was crying. Having continued walking backward, her backside finally hit the wall on the far side of cargo bay. She slid down it slowly, coming to rest in a sitting position on the cool floor, straight-backed against the wall, knees up. She wrapped her slim arms around her legs, drew them in close, put her head on her knees, and wept.

**oOo oOo oOo**

Naomi Wildman tip-toed down the corridor towards the cargo bays, the ever-present datapadd gripped in one hand, preparing to engage herself in one of her all-time favorite pastimes. The cargo bays did not have as much soundproofing as did crew quarters, so one could easily hear noises coming from inside. Naomi had learned early that this made for great fun eavesdropping on crewmembers who might be sharing a bit of gossip or a quick smooch, but as she neared the bays, she heard a sound that was not gossip or kissing, and neither was it unfamiliar to her. She had heard it from her mother, particularly if she caught her looking at holopictures of her father and their home in the Alpha Quadrant. This time, the sound was coming specifically from cargo bay two.

Someone was crying, and the only someone she knew who lived in cargo bay two was someone she was pretty sure did _not_ cry. Her eyes went wide and she stopped, perched on her toes, thinking perhaps she ought to go get her mom, or maybe the captain, but she dismissed that thought as she continued to listen. The sound was breaking her young heart, and her tiny feet would not turn, instead drawing her silently right up to the point just outside sensor range. She scrunched her four little forehead horns together in deep concentration, trying to decide what she should do.

In her personal quest to become the captain's first-ever Bridge Assistant, she was teaching herself Starfleet Rules and Regulations. In between times, she was also reading up on children who lived on starships, most notably those on the _Enterprise_-D.

First and foremost, there was Wesley Crusher, who happened to be the son of the ship's Chief Medical Officer. Wesley had been the topic of many sterling reports regarding his abilities to help people, solve complex problems, and even on numerous occasions, save the entire ship.

Naomi scrunched up her horns again, this time in disdain. She was no Wesley Crusher, and she didn't have one single desire to _be_ Wesley Crusher, or anything much like him. She recalled going on to read about some of the other children on the _Enterprise_-D, remembering Wesley was not the only kid who did some good on that starship.

She knew about Marissa, Jay Gordon, and Patterson, the children who had found themselves trapped in a damaged turbolift with Captain Picard. The ship had been crippled by contact with quantum filaments, and the captain had broken his ankle when the lift jerked to an unhealthy halt. Their bravery and courage during this incident had been noted personally by Captain Picard.

She even knew that, during this same crippling disaster, the infant Molly O'Brien had helped Worf by teaching him the difference between a holographic textbook birth and the real thing.

She read about Worf's son, Alexander, and the role he had played in helping to thwart the Ferengi when a transporter accident had turned the captain, Guinan, Keiko O'Brien, and Ensign Ro Laren into children.

These were only the reports that stood out in the database, the big stuff. Who knew how many times a kid might have helped out during the course of any given day?

Though the thought of talking directly to Seven gave her "butterflies in the belly," as her mother liked to put it, she made her decision, thinking again about her future position as Bridge Assistant. Carefully tucking her datapadd in one pocket, she dug around in the opposite pocket, smiling when her fingers touched what she had hoped would be there.

Crossing her arms behind her back and leaning slightly forward, again on her toes, still outside of sensor range, she called out in a stage whisper, "Seven?"

The crying stopped immediately and all Naomi could hear was the various bells and whistles associated with normal operation of a cargo bay. She held her breath and waited, dropping onto the soles of her feet.

"Who…is there?" The voice was kind of thick, and Naomi knew it sounded that way from crying. She was at once more positive about what she was going to do, but it did not ease the fluttering in her stomach.

Determinedly, she answered Seven, stuttering and a little winded from holding her breath. "It's, uh, m-me. Uh, Naomi Wildman." There was no response for a minute and during this time Naomi began to think this might have been a really bad idea. Her godfather, Neelix, had assured her a number of times that Seven of Nine was no longer Borg and not to be feared. Now Naomi wondered if maybe he was wrong, that this was not very smart, to be here by herself with the former Borg, no matter whether she was crying or not. She was just on the verge of turning away when Seven responded.

"Enter."

Naomi blinked, nodded once sharply, and stepped forward into the sensor so the doors could heave open. She turned her head and saw Seven sitting right there against the wall of the bay, so close she could almost touch her. She walked two steps until she was standing directly in front of her. In the manner of most children, she asked her question without hesitation or tact.

"Why are you crying? I didn't think Borg ever cried."

Seven craned her slim neck up to look at the child, and Naomi saw at once the red-rimmed puffy evidence that yes, indeed, she had been crying – but only from one eye. The eye surrounded by her implant was unaffected, and the imbalance provoked a little gasp of surprise from Naomi.

Seven took no notice of Naomi's reaction, perhaps because she did not have any idea how she might look to someone else. She merely answered Naomi's question. "I am experiencing…pain."

Ignoring her jittery stomach, Naomi fell to her knees in front of Seven, concerned the woman was injured. It would never do a proper Bridge Assistant to neglect a crewmember who might need medical assistance.

"Oh! Seven, should I call the Doctor?"

"No. It is…pain…but it is…_not_…pain. I have been…hurt, but I am not damaged, but I…_am_…damaged." Her forehead scrunched in a fashion similar to Naomi's and it was clear to Naomi that Seven was confused. She sat back on her heels and pondered this for a moment, her horns wrinkled together in concentration as much as Seven's smooth forehead was wrinkled in confusion. Anyone looking at them might have chuckled at the resemblance.

Then it came to her. This _was_ the same as her mother, exactly the same. She had not made a mistake after all!

Naomi touched the place over her heart. "You hurt _inside_, don't you?" Seven hesitated a second before nodding in astonished agreement. Naomi repeated the simple request her mother had made of her plenty of times – and one she had also made of her mother. "Can you tell me why?"

"One…One has…died." She looked at the child. "Did you know One?"

Naomi's eyes brightened at the question. "No, but Neelix told me all about him. He said One was kinda like your son, only different, and that he was real smart. Neelix said he was Borg but not really, but he wasn't your son like I'm mom's daughter, but sorta he was because he had your nanoprobes. Neelix said One wanted to learn to play Kot-es-Kot, and Neelix thought I would be the perfect person to teach him." She finished with a big closed-mouth grin.

Seven rested her chin on her knees, listening intently as the child hopped from thought to thought. "Yes. I have heard you are good at the game. You would have been an excellent teacher. I think he would have liked that."

Seven's use of the past tense reminded Naomi of what she had said before. "He died?"

"Yes, just now. He had been badly injured destroying the Borg cube. The Doctor could have saved him, but he told the Doctor if he remained alive, the Borg would continue to hunt for him and it would put _Voyager_ in danger. Although he was correct, it was still very…painful…for me. He told me I would…adapt, but I am…unsure…that I will."

Naomi Wildman was a clever child, but she was still just a child, and she spoke again without thought as to how it might sound. "You lost your little boy."

For Seven, the crushing truth of these five words struck her with such force that she gasped harshly and felt bile rise bitterly in her throat. Unwanted, tears began to spill afresh from her eye and she quickly looked away from the child who had just stated the obvious with the heart-wrenching, uncluttered clarity only the young possess.

Naomi did what she came to do. She reached into her pocket. "Seven, here. It's crumpled, but it's clean. I promise." In her small hand was a white cotton hankie.

Seven turned to Naomi, studied the piece of cloth, and then reached out and took it. Naomi moved into her outstretched arm, into a full-on hug, the variety of which her mother was famous for, bringing her arms around the slim woman and pulling her forward away from the wall. After a moment of surprised uncertainty, Seven carefully lifted her arms around the girl, stroking her long red hair with her right hand and clutching the hankie in her Borg-enhanced left. They held this pose until a soft beep sounded from the communicator on Naomi's jumper. Actually, it was five short beeps – a personal page. Naomi pulled out of the embrace.

"Oh! Seven, that's my mom. I gotta go, okay? I'm real sorry about One. It would have been fun to teach him Kot-es-Kot. But he did a brave thing, didn't he? Kids can do really good things to help starships, ya know? You can keep the hankie. Um, bye. I'll see ya later, okay?" And with that, she was gone.

Seven rose unsteadily, gained her balance, and walked back across the bay to the reflective panel. Wiping her eye and her nose with the hankie, she gazed into it.

And smiled.

End


End file.
